That cold morning of a Saturday in early December
by YourRoyalSassiness
Summary: In case Ron doesn't have enough problems in his life, now he has to find a girl for the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball. There are only a few weeks left for the event and he has still to get a partner. Will he be able to make something clear on a cold Saturday morning in early December? AU-GoF


**This is the translation of a story that I've already published in Spanish ("Aquella fría mañana de principios de Diciembre") and is my first work in English. If there's any problem with the grammar or trouble with the meaning just let me know. I tried to translate a joke from Spanish and I'm not really sure it works in English too, but I hope you will be able to understand it.**

 **Enjoy it!**

 **...**

It was the cold morning of a Saturday in early December. Ron was on his way to the library, the place where he hoped to find Hermione to ask for help with his Care of Magical Creatures assignment. Ron had gotten up earlier than usual for him on weekends to see if he could find Hermione having breakfast in the Great Hall, but she hadn't been there when Ron had arrived, so he supposed she should be in library already.

Hagrid had asked for a four-foot assignment on the Blast-Ended Skrewts. The Ranger's homework assignments weren't usually too complicated, but in the last lesson Ron had been too busy trying not to be burned, stung or eaten by one of those awful creatures to pay attention to what Hagrid was saying about them. Ron knew that, as always, Hermione had managed to survive and listen at the same time, since she had written her essay days ago. So Ron hoped his friend would tell him in which books he could find the information he needed. Well, what he really wanted was for Hermione to give him the information herself. Okay, okay, fine! What Ron really wanted was for Hermione to let him read her assignment to know what was exactly what he had to put into his own. Ron knew there was little chance Hermione would agree to that request. "Honestly Ronald, homework is for students to work hard and learn to look for information for themselves. If I let you read my writing, you would not learn anything". That was basically the answer waiting for him in the library.

However, on that cold Saturday morning in early December when Ron was walking in the direction of the library, there was something that worried the boy more than homework or that Hermione would not let him read her writing. Bloody hell, it was something that scared him even more than Blast-Ended Skrewts! It was ... the Yule Ball. It was not really the dance that worried him most, although it was not something that excited him too much. The problem was that, obviously, he could not just go to the event by himself and there was only one way to get a partner: by asking directly a girl. Most people would say that for someone who had passed McGonagall's chess game that protected the Philosopher's Stone in his first year, someone who had emerged victorious from a battle against the Whomping Willow and had entered the Chamber of Secrets a year later, someone who had faced an alleged killer to protect his friends the year before... for this someone, to ask a girl if she wanted to go with him to the Yule Ball was easy as pie. Ron differed: he had never felt so terrified.

There was something that calmed Ron: Harry hadn't gotten a date yet. But there were times when he began to think seriously about that fact and he was even more frightened. 'If Harry, one of the Triwizard Tournament's champions, hasn't gotten a girl yet, what possibilities do I have?' thought Ron. And the more he reflected on it, the worse his expectations were. Ridiculously tall for his age, thin, red-haired, pale skin with freckles, an endless nose, voice that was still cracking occasionally, poor, hand-me-downs, always in the shadow of his brothers and friends... Ron had not wanted to admit it at the beginning, but that last point was the one that had provoked his anger towards Harry when he had been chosen by the Goblet of Fire. Although Ron would never say it aloud (that was a girl thing) he really cared for his friends. But sometimes being the buddy of Harry Potter and the best friend of The Brightest Witch of her Age was frustrating; to remain constantly in the background applauding while the focus is on another person is something that is not always easy to digest. With all that, getting a girl for the Ball was very complicated.

Ron had been looking at the girls in school more than ever. Not that he didn't usually, after all, what 14 year old doesn't? Since last year, or perhaps since the end of the second year, Ron had noticed that the girls on his class had begun to change: some had begun to apply makeup, they giggled and whispered down the aisles, they looked at the boys in a different way and above all... boobs! And asses, that too, but mostly boobs. In short, curves. Obviously, no girl of his year had the rounded body of Madame Rosmerta or the stylized figure of Fleur Delacour (who fed his feverish fantasies), but Parvati Patil and Susan Bones were not bad and Lavender Brown... boobs! And ass, but mostly boobs. But Ron knew that he could never aspire to something like that: knowing his fate, he would surely end up going to the Yule Ball with Eloise Midgen who, however nice she was according to Hermione, had acne and a crooked nose.

When he entered the library, he noticed that it was deserted. Madam Pince, the librarian, was putting some books on shelves and stared at him as if she couldn't believe that Ronald Weasley was in the library on a Saturday morning. He kept walking through the corridors that formed the shelves of books looking for Hermione. As he passed through the Transfigurations section, he realized that Viktor Krum himself was at a table reading a heavy old book. He seemed to be very focused on his reading because his frown was tightly pursed, which made him look rather intimidating. Ron decided it wasn't the best time to ask for an autograph and he kept walking towards the tables further from the library entrance, the place where Hermione used to guard against the commotion that sometimes formed in the room. Although it wasn't necessary today, since the silence in the room was deafening, Ron knew that she would be in that corner, it was her favourite place.

That's where he expected to find her, and that's where he found her. Hermione was seated at a table with her back to a large window that offered a magnificent view of the Black Lake. She was surrounded by several mountains of books and alternated her gaze between the open book that was right in front of her and a parchment in which she had already written about six feet of a writing. She was so engrossed in her task that she did not notice Ron's presence until the boy noisily dragged the chair on the other side of the table to take a seat. When she heard the noise, she raised her head to see who it was and looked puzzled when she saw Ron.

\- "What are you doing here?" – asked the girl. Apparently, her good manners hadn't been able to overcome her curiosity.

\- "Good morning to you too. Yes, I slept well, thank you for your interest " – greeted Ron sarcastically while browsing the books that were scattered all over the table.

\- "Good morning, Ron" – Hermione replied in a tone of annoyance and ducked her head so that her hair covered her face and Ron couldn't see the treacherous smile appearing on her face. Before he could comment, she asked curtly – "What are you doing here?"

Hermione hadn't taken too well the remark he had made on Eloise Midgen's nose (the reason was a mystery to Ron) and was still angry at him after two days. 'She's a hypocrite' thought Ron. 'I'm sure she'd go to the Ball with a nice guy even if his face seemed to have been hit by a Bludger' he added sarcastically. Ron came to the conclusion that taking this to Hermione wouldn't be the most sensible thing if he intended to get help from her with his homework. Unfortunately, there were many occasions in which Ron didn't choose the best option.

\- "Are you still mad at me for what I said the other day?" – Ron asked slyly.

The boy had never asked Hermione if she remembered the look of the Basilisk she had seen reflected in her mirror in second year, but Ron was convinced that the way Hermione was glaring at him at that time was the closest to the mortal look of the giant reptile he was going to see in his life. After a few seconds Hermione turned her attention back to the parchment and resumed her task by writing something more violently in it.

\- "Come on, Hermione, even you have to admit that Eloise's nose is more crooked than Gringotts columns" – said the boy nonchalantly.

Hermione continued to write until she finished a sentence, plunged the quill hard to mark the end point and raised her head again. The look on her face was a mixture of disbelief and anger. Ron was convinced that the best thing at that point was to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room and find Harry to do the Care of Magical Creatures essay together.

\- "You don't understand anything, do you?" – asked Hermione with annoyed face.

\- "What?"

'What's there to understand?' Ron wondered, afraid that he and Hermione weren't talking about the same thing. 'Maybe I'm not used to waking up so early on weekends' the boy tried to reason. Ron was not the smartest person in the place (he wasn't stupid either), but he was sure Hermione was being difficult on purpose. However, she must have been thinking the same thing about him, since she snorted desperately and turned her attention back to her homework.

\- "If you just came to bother me, you have already done it. Now leave me alone, please, I have many things to do" – Hermione's voice trembled slightly as she said these words. But Ron, too surprised by the way his friend was acting, didn't realize it.

\- "What's gotten into you? I didn't know you were friends with Eloise..." – he tried to refute.

However, he didn't have the opportunity to continue speaking, since Hermione stamped the quill against the table producing a noise that surely his brother Charlie had listened from the reserve of dragons in which he worked in Romania. When Ron stopped looking at the quill (now split in half) and looked at Hermione in the face, he knew that he had made a big mistake: the girl was glaring again, but this time her eyes were something brighter, her cheeks were flushed, her nostrils were widened by her deep and agitated breathing, her lips were tightly pursed and her whole body trembled slightly. Ron, terrified, swallowed loudly: he had never seen Hermione so angry before.

\- "I cannot believe I've had the misfortune to meet such a shallow and insensitive person as you, Ronald-I-just-go-to-dance-with-pretty-girls-Weasley. I cannot believe that you too are like the rest of the boys who only care about the external appearance of the people, no matter how horrible they may be. All of you look pitiful drooling when you see Fleur Delacour pass through the halls as if she were a goddess or when you fight to see who is going to ask for the Butterbeers in The Three Broomsticks to take a look at the cleavage of Madame Rosmerta"

Hermione paused to take a breath as she had said all this very quickly and not stopping for air. Ron was anchored in his chair, his eyes wide and not daring to move a muscle. The boy had noticed how Madam Pince had appeared behind Hermione to get her attention for shouting in the library, but she had decided to turn around and go back where she had come from because she had found it quite likely that Hermione would hex her if she interrupted her speech. Meanwhile, Hermione was still talking.

\- "We, the other girls, may not have the body or the face of Susan Bones or Lavender Brown, but we also have feelings, did you know? For once in your life you could stop for a second to think that you can be hurting others when you judge them for their physique. What really matters in a person is that they are nice and attentive, that they are with you both in good and bad times, a person with whom you can have a pleasant and entertaining time. Not how pronounced their curves are or how straight their nose is"

When Hermione finished her passionate speech, there were tears streaming down her face, wetting her cheeks. The girl sniffed lightly. The expression of rage had vanished from her face and had been replaced by one of deep sadness. Ron didn't remember seeing Hermione, one of the strongest and most confident people he knew, in such a vulnerable state. The closest thing to this had been last year, when she had found out that Buckbeack had been sentenced to death and he had offered to help her file an appeal. Ron, who didn't know how to react, offered a handkerchief to his friend from across the table (he was too scared to go any closer).

\- "Thank you" – she said to him with a faint whisper between her hiccups as she accepted the handkerchief and blew her nose.

Ron didn't know that Hermione had taken her comment that way. He had assumed that she was defending Eloise Midgen as she was doing with the house elves. But, apparently, Hermione had interpreted the comment personally. "We, the other girls, may not have the body or the face of Susan Bones or Lavender Brown, but we also have feelings, did you know?" That's what she had said. But he didn't think Hermione was ugly, quite the opposite.

'Wow, wow, wow, get a grip!' Ron reprimanded himself mentally. There were times when his brain would rave and start to think strange things. Most of it was harmless nonsense like how cool would be to wear a piercing in the ear like the one that Bill had or how we wanted to be the Keeper of the Chudley Canons in the future. But other times his brain would start thinking… "inappropriate" things about Hermione.

It had all started the year before, just the day Hermione and he had reconciled about their fight over Scabbers (Ron could not contain a shudder at the thought of his old "pet") after learning of the jury's ruling in the case of Buckbeack. Hermione had done something that had never happened before: she had given him a hug. Obviously, a hug is an act that requires some physical contact, which made the boy realize for the first time that Hermione had... boobs! Not that they were too big, but... boobs! In fact, he had noticed them so much that he had to remove the girl so that she wouldn't notice the reaction she had produced on his body. That night, lying on his bed, he had come to the conclusion that it had been a normal reaction on a boy his age. It was the first time he was in such an "intimate" contact with certain parts of the female anatomy (if he did not count her mother's breasts, which he obviously didn't) and his teenage body had acted the natural way.

However, before he could fully convince himself of that idea, summer had come and with it the Quidditch World Cup Final, and Hermione and Harry had been invited to come with them. When the match had been over and they were in their tent already sleeping, the incidents related to the Death Eaters had begun and Ron and his friends had been separated from the rest of his family while fleeing the tumult. In the midst of that distressing situation, his horny teenage brain had had time to notice Hermione's tanned legs peeking out of the shorts of her pyjamas; it was the first time he had seen so much Hermione's skin exposed. Since then he had begun to have strange dreams starring his best friend, dreams that ended with sticky results.

The worst had happened a few days later when Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred, George and Ginny had decided to go swimming to a pond that was a quarter of an hour's walk from The Burrow. The girls had gone before Ron, Harry and the Twins since the boys weren't in the habit of getting up early in the holidays. When they arrived and began to put their towels on the grass, the girls were coming out of the water and Ron couldn't help but notice Hermione, who was wearing a blue swimsuit: her damp hair that was lying back, her tanned skin, the way her hips wiggled as she walked. Hermione lay down on the towel that was right next to him, while Ron did not dare even look at her and was sitting with his knees close to his chest to prevent her from seeing what was happening inside his swimsuit.

\- "The water is frozen but it feels really nice with this heat" – said the girl.

Ron turned his head to answer, but found himself entranced looking at her: small drops of water decorated the skin of her arms and legs, something that made her shine. Ron was slowly lifting his gaze from her legs and, when he reached her chest, he found that she was right: her nipples clearly indicated that the water was very cold. His eyes came up to the face of the girl who was studying him strangely while trying to block the sun by closing one eye and covering her face with one hand.

\- "Ron, are you okay?" – asked the girl as she stood – "Your face is completely flushed. I think you are having a heat stroke. You'd better drink some water"

Then, she turned and bent over to retrieve a bottle of a basket they had brought with food and drink. The position she took at that moment, butt sticking out, was too much for Ron. As she was with her back to him, he took advantage of the moment to get up quickly and start running in the direction of The Burrow. As he did so, he could hear Hermione's cries calling him and the laughter of his older brothers. Ron made the journey in less than five minutes (which had plenty of merit taking into account the stony bulge between his legs), climbed the stairs of the house three by three and slammed the door of the bathroom. Once inside he "solved his problem" manually (you know what I mean) in just a minute. Ron had never taken so short to "solve his problems", not even when he'd used the magazines he'd found in Bill and Charlie's old room. When he had calmed down enough, he returned to the pond and reassured the others that he had only gone to drink water. However, the Twins didn't seem to buy his excuses.

\- "Ron, we were really worried. It looked like you were very hot " – said Fred waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

\- "It's true, we thought you were going stiffy" – George said with a wink.

Since then, the dreams in which Hermione appeared had increased in frequency, but Ron had never "solved his problem" thinking of her again. That's not something you do thinking about a friend, right? Ron had deduced that everything that was happening was because Hermione was the girl of his age with whom he had the closest relationship, it was totally natural. However, he couldn't confirm his suspicions as that required asking Harry if something similar happened to him. "Eh... Harry, have you ever masturbated thinking about our other best friend?" No, that talk would never happen. Besides, there was something that bothered him when he thought about the possibility that Harry might be thinking the same way about Hermione. So Ron had decided to tackle that problem in the most effective way he knew: not thinking about it.

That explained why he hadn't even thought of Hermione as an option to be his date for the Yule Ball: Hermione wasn't a girl, she was... she was... a Hermione. A Hermione was a person with a girl's body (Ron had already verified that fact) which didn't behave like the other girls: she hadn't started to apply makeup, or giggled and whispered in the corridors, or looked at the boys differently. Yes, boobs! And ass, that too. But for the rest, Hermione was still the same as always: she studied a lot, was angry at Ron and Harry if they didn't, was serious but when you knew her better she was funnier than she seemed, fought for the rights of defenceless... few things had changed in her since the day they had become friends.

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true: Ron had actually seen Hermione whisper to Ginny, since summer it seemed that their relationship was closer. And he had also noticed how she and her sister had looked at Cedric Diggory when they had been with him and his father to catch the Portkey that would take them to the forest where the Quidditch World Cup Final was held. Or how she had blushed the day Bill had come to the Burrow and had shaken hands with her. Or Gilderoy Lockhart (there was no need to explain further). But Hermione didn't apply makeup. 'Not that she needs it either' Ron thought as he studied his friend, who was crying on the other side of the table: indomitable brown hair that came to shoulder height, bushy eyebrows, large chocolate-coloured eyes, small and upturned nose (with a slightly reddish tip after blowing it) furrowed by a few freckles that went from one cheek to the other, lips not very fleshy, teeth white and of reasonable size after having reduced them using magic... Her figure glowed from the light coming through the window that was behind her.

\- "Do you want to come to the Yule Ball with me?" – someone asked.

When Ron saw Hermione slowly raise her head and look at him in shock, her eyes wide, he realized that it was himself who had asked the question.

\- "What?" – she asked in a whisper as she looked at him with tearful, surprised eyes.

'What?' he asked himself as he watched Hermione's expectant face. 'I cannot go to the Yule Ball with Hermione!' Couldn't he? Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to go together. As she had said, they could have a pleasant and entertaining evening. Everything would be easier since they already knew each other and were friends, he didn't have to be nervous or screw things up as long as he managed to restrain the part of his brain that was responsible for producing the dreams in which Hermione did very different things to study in that same library. They could go to the Ball as friends, friends and nothing more than that, because that was all that Hermione was to him, a friend. Just a friend, no doubt… 'In for a Knut, in for a Galleon' thought Ron, who took all his courage and tried again.

\- "I... well, I... I was wondering..." – Ron cleared his throat. How could it be so difficult if he had just done it a few seconds ago without any problem? – "I was wondering if it would seem like a good idea... I mean..." – Ron watched as Hermione nodded slightly in a gesture that he interpreted as encouraging – "I was wondering if you would want to come with me to the Yule Ball. Only if you want to and... and no one has asked you before, of course. As friends, I mean" – finished Ron clumsily.

Hermione continued to stare at him, completely shocked and speechless. After a few agonizing seconds of silence, Ron came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to say anything, but it was clear that it was because she didn't know how to give him the brushoff without making a fool out of him.

\- "I knew that you wouldn't want to go with me, what a stupid idea" – said Ron laughing nervously as he got up from the chair; Hermione's rejection had affected him more than he'd expected – "I'd better go, so you can study without being disturbed"

Ron turned and started walking toward the entrance of the library, forgetting completely the assignment on the Blast-Ended Skrewts. He passed the corridor of the Transfiguration section, which was now empty, and as he was about to leave the enormous room he heard someone call him by name.

\- "RON!" – cried Hermione – "RON, WAIT!"

Ron, minding the girl, stopped and waited for her to advance the feet that separated them. When she reached his side, Hermione gasped as she had run to reach him. She grabbed him by his elbow as she rested her other arm on her ribs and tried to catch her breath. Once she recovered from her sprint she let go of him, stood up and opened her mouth to speak.

\- "Can you stop yelling at the library? Some students are trying to study!"

Both Ron and Hermione gave a startled little jump. Neither of them had noticed Madam Pince approaching them to draw their attention, and now she was glaring at them.

\- "Sorry" – said the two teenagers at once.

Madam Pince snorted indignantly, gave them one last cold glance and left to resume her work. Hermione cleared her throat to catch Ron's attention, the boy was still agitated by the sudden appearance of the librarian.

\- "I'd love to go with you, Ron" – said a smiling Hermione as she blushed slightly.

\- "What?" – Ron asked, having lost the thread of the conversation altogether.

\- "I would love to go to the Ball with you" – Hermione replied somewhat hesitantly since she had not expected Ron's reaction – "If you haven't changed your mind"

\- "Oh, sure, yes, of course" – said the boy eloquently.

However, it seemed that saying that was the right thing to do since Hermione was smiling from ear to ear.

\- "It's settled then" – she said to finish the deal.

They remained a few seconds standing there, Ron with his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth slightly and Hermione with her arms behind her back, both of them avoiding eye contact.

\- "Have you woken up so early on a Saturday morning just to ask me that?" – asked Hermione to break the tension that had formed between them.

\- "Of course I did" – Ron said as dignifiedly as he could. Hermione raised an eyebrow – "I also hoped you could help me with the essay on the Blast-Ended Skrewts" – Hermione was looking at him seriously, so he added with the most innocent expression he could gather – "Please?"

That seemed to break Hermione's defences, she laughed lightly and turned to head toward her table.

\- "I have my essay in my rucksack, I can let you read it so that you can use it as your inspiration if you want "

While Ron walked among the aisles of shelves of the library, he concluded that that cold Saturday morning in early December had gone much better than he could have expected.


End file.
